


First Flight

by Lleu



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Anal Fingering, Explicit Consent, M/M, Mating Flight (Dragonriders of Pern), Oral Sex, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lleu/pseuds/Lleu
Summary: “F’nor,” G’sel says. “I can go —?”You don’t understand what he’s asking: all of your attention is on Grall. No:withGrall. It’s like a — and then part of you realizes what’s happening.A mating flight.Yes, Canth says.“Miniature dragons,” you say.*F’nor and G’sel are relaxing on the beach the first time Grall rises to mate.
Relationships: F'nor | Famanoran/G'sel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	First Flight

**Author's Note:**

> By virtue of his lack of characterization G’sel, like (frankly) most of McCaffrey’s characters is the perfect character for me to project onto, and the fact that he impresses a bronze firelizard while F’nor has a queen offered the perfect premise for this. As far as F’nor’s involvement, I just want to see more (any) of the main characters be, explicitly, anything other than strictly heterosexual. And also to liberate all of these characters from the structures of these terrible books that I love because of reasons.
> 
> (Re Canth’s “Brekke will understand” — will she? In principle, maybe, but in practice? In the world of this fic: yes. Fear not. Also dragons don’t really understand monogamy anyway, so what does Canth know?)

“I’m sorry,” G’sel says, sounding embarrassed, and you would have known he meant it even if Canth hadn’t added, _He is_.

At least, you would have if you hadn’t been preoccupied with Grall, hungrier than you’ve ever experienced, at least since she hatched.

“What?” you say, and part of you winces at the harshness of your tone, but it’s a small part. Grall tears into the fish she grabbed from the water just off the beach, about a dragonlength away from where Canth and Siroth are floating aimlessly — but not aimlessly, anymore; your dragons are looking at you, their eyes whirling interest but not alarm. Grall lets out a defiant shriek (defying who?) and you feel a sudden surge of...pride?

 _Brekke should be here_ , Canth says, sounding mildly concerned. _But there is no time_.

“F’nor,” G’sel says. “I can go —?”

You don’t understand what he’s asking: all of your attention is on Grall. No: _with_ Grall. It’s like a — and then part of you realizes what’s happening. _A mating flight_.

 _Yes_ , Canth says.

“Miniature dragons,” you say, and Canth and Siroth both rumble amusedly.

“It should be Berd — it should be _Brekke_ ,” G’sel says. “Siroth —”

But then it’s too late: you feel the rush of wings — your wings? Grall’s wings, as she launches herself into the air, soaring high out over the bay and then whirling, circling, and you-Grall notice with pleasure then that you are not alone; you are pursued, by a small fair of bronzes and one or two intrepid browns. But you are faster.

“ _F’nor_ ,” you hear G’sel say; his voice sounds...different. With some difficulty, you tear your eyes away from Grall, although your mind continues to follow her, almost dancing through the air, just out of reach of the bronzes — the browns have dropped away now. G’sel is standing an arm’s length away from you, one hand outstretched but not, yet, touching you.

“What —” you start to say, then pause, grinning, as Grall executes a particularly agile maneuver that narrows the field of bronzes to two — one of whom, you realize suddenly, must be G‘sel’s. “Oh.”

“I can go,” G’sel says, with apparent difficulty. “It should — you want Brekke. She — wants you.”

“Yes,” you say. “But —” you pause. Canth, tentative, interjects: _Siroth says G’sel likes you. I like Siroth. I like G’sel. Brekke will understand_.

“F’nor...” G’sel’s voice is strained; his hand is hovering over your shoulder.

“ _Yes_ ,” you say, and you feel a final surge of excitement from Grall, paralleling a sudden stirring in you. “Stay.” And then it’s done: you-Grall are caught, G’sel’s bronze’s tail tangling with yours-Grall’s, and G’sel’s hand coming to rest on the back of your-Grall’s neck, his body pulling closer to you, his mouth over yours.

It’s been several Turns since the last time you were with a man, but you haven’t forgotten how it works, although last time you were at the weyr, in an actual room that was prepared for this kind of activity.

G’sel, hard and pressing urgently against you, manages to pull away for a moment. “I won’t” — he interrupts himself to kiss you again — “push you.”

For a moment, your mind still wrapped up in Grall and in the pleasant firmness of G’sel’s body against yours, his arms wrapped around you, you’re not sure what he means, and then your mind clears enough for you to figure it out. Your eyes, which had fallen closed as you lean into the kiss, spring open again; G’sel senses this and pulls back again. “Relax,” he says, one hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, searching for skin. “The point is to enjoy it.”

 _I love you_ , Canth says, and the warmth in his voice relieves that momentary tension. You and G’sel — and Grall and G’sel’s bronze — are in total agreement again, then: with G’sel’s help, you strip off your clothes. G’sel, grinning, looks up at you for a moment, then drops down to trail kisses down your chest; at the same time, he takes your cock in his hand, stroking it gently.

It feels good. You want more. You feel Canth’s presence, loving and encouraging, at the back of your mind. _Yes_ , he says. _Yes_ , you agree. An echo of affirmation, too, from Grall.

“Mmm,” you moan, trying to urge G’sel on. He looks up at you again, winks — _How can he be so collected, right now, right here?_ — and, abruptly, takes you in his mouth, warm and wet and good. “ _Oh_.”

G’sel hums around you and, tilting his head slightly, works his way around the head of your cock with his tongue, sending a shiver up your spine. You thrust slightly into his mouth and he hums again, then lets go of you for a moment.

“Lie down?” he suggests, and you agree. The sand is warm and, like all the sand on Southern beaches, it seems, soft. You relax into it, and G’sel takes your cock back in his mouth, sliding up and down the shaft; the head slides against the roof of his mouth and you close your eyes letting yourself fall into that pleasure. For a while you’re conscious only of warmth — sand surrounding you, G’sel’s mouth covering you, the sun overhead, Canth with you (always with you).

 _Yes_ , says Canth again.

Then G’sel stops, and you open your eyes to look down at him. He’s flushed, looking at you with something between earnest affection — you’ll wonder about this later — and lust, and you want — _something_. So does he: that’s obvious, even when you’re in this state. He’s practically vibrating with desire. So you reach down with your good arm and pull him up towards you. He kisses you, hungrily, and you you respond in kind, grabbing — more roughly than you intend — his hair and pulling him close with your other hand. Your cocks are pressed together, and he thrusts against you, desperate for stimulation. You feel the echo of it, feeding your own desire, although whether through Grall and G’sel’s bronze or through Canth from Siroth you’re not sure.

Uncarefully, and then wincing as you jar your healing arm slightly, you push G’sel over, rolling him onto his back so you can sit straddling him. His eyes widen momentarily, and then you kiss him again, taking both of your cocks in your hand and stroking them together, feeling a sudden slickness — G’sel’s precum, or yours, you’re not sure. He lets out a low moan against your lips, and you smile in turn, then slide your way down, pressing a kiss into his neck, then his chest, stopping to brush his nipple with your teeth, which earns you a gasp of pleasure. You spend a few more moments attending to it, but your mind is set on your final destination. So you keep moving down, down, until you get there.

G’sel’s cock is a little longer than yours, although perhaps not quite as thick, and his foreskin is loose. Teasing, you lick your way up the shaft; his cock jerks in response to your attention, but you’re not quite ready yet. First, you shift down a little further and take his balls in your mouth, first one, then the other, then both at once, running your tongue around them, gently stroking his cock as you do. He squirms under you and spreads his legs a little wider. You pause and grin. _Maybe_ , you think, _some time — if Brekke doesn’t mind_ … Canth rumbles approval, as, to your mild surprise, does Siroth.

Then you’ve had enough of teasing, and without further ado you shift up, just a little, and take G’sel’s cock in your mouth, tasting the salt of the sea you were both swimming in just a little while ago, and a hint of sweetness. As you work your way up and down the shaft, alternating sucking and playing with the head with your tongue, G’sel lets out a satisfying series of moans and tangles his hand in your hair. He begins to thrust, slightly, into your mouth. It’s nice to know you’ve retained some of your skills even with the lack of practice. Before too long, though, he tugs at you, gently, and pulls you up until he can kiss you again.

“I want —” he starts.

“What?”

“I want you,” he says. “Lie back again. This should be — for you. I want that. To do this for you.”

You nod, feeling a surge of approval from Canth, and G’sel raises himself up in order to lower you gently down onto your back again. He kisses you deeply, once, and then he’s taking you warmly in his mouth once again, playing with your balls as he does so. As he works his tongue around the head of your cock, under the foreskin, sending a shiver through your body, his hand drifts around and up your thigh until his fingers are circling around your hole, teasing, not — as promised, you think, wryly — pushing. With no oil to make it easy, anything more involved will have to wait. This feels good, though, and you spread your legs to give him easier access. G’sel lets your cock slip momentarily out of his mouth to grin at you.

“Good?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say-sigh.

His grin widens and then he takes your cock in his mouth again. His teasing with his fingers intensifies, pressing against you but never into you. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold out. Canth says: _Then don’t_. And he’s right.

“I’m —” you say, and gasp as, just for a moment, one of G’sel’s fingers _does_ push all the way in, and the feeling of that, just as he takes you all the way down his throat, brings you to the edge and over it. Your hips rise off the sand with the force of your orgasm, and then fall back, breathing hard, as G’sel swallows your seed. Then he lets your cock fall, and his finger is gone, and he’s moving, straddling you, stroking himself, as you realize he must have been the whole time, because in just a few moments he’s cumming, too, spattering his own seed across your chest and stomach before he — gently — collapses, gasping, on top of you.

You lie there for a while, your breathing calming, slowing. You feel a drop of G’sel’s seed roll down your side onto the sand, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Your dragons rumble again, and suddenly you feel something moving in the sand next to your head; you turn your head slightly and Grall is there, trilling at you and butting her head against your cheek. She seems as smugly satisfied as you feel, yourself, and curls herself up in the warm sand next to you. You turn back towards G’sel and see a glint of bronze hiding in his hair.

Eventually, you stir, and G’sel does, too. His firelizard takes off, chirping, and Grall follows suit. G’sel smiles at you; he looks sleepy. You could use a nap, too, you think. Sex is tiring, and you’re still recovering. G’sel clears his throat and says, “We should probably wash.”

“Yes,” you agree.

Impulsively, then, G’sel kisses you again. You’re surprised, but not displeased, and respond in kind. When he breaks the kiss, he says, a little ruefully, “It _should_ have been Brekke. But. Thank you.”

You wave this away with a shake of your head. “It _should_ have been who it _should_ have been. You were here. It was good. Thank you.”

Canth makes his agreement audibly known.

“Well.” He looks away from you, mildly embarrassed, still. He stands then, and offers you a hand, which you accept. He helps you to your feet and looks you up and down. He nods to himself for some reason, a little awkwardly, and turns toward the water, then abruptly back to you. “What do you say we clean ourselves off and return to the weyr?”

“I think,” you say, “that sounds like a good idea.”

Without looking back at you, G’sel strides into the water, then, ducking his head into a wave and disappearing momentarily before surfacing again on the other side. _Hm_ , you think. _Interesting_.

Canth says nothing, for once. Grall darts in a quick circle around your head and you smile. Well. G’sel will have to be a problem for another time. You shake your head slightly and follow him into the water.


End file.
